Apocalypse for Two
by WeasleyPendragon
Summary: A zombie apocalypse hits the wizarding world. What price is George prepared to pay to see his twin again? One-shot, hints of twincest.


**To start, this wasn't entirely my own idea. Thanks to WeasleyCrazy for the head cannon that planted the seed for this odd little story. I was really bored and feeling a little angsty and my multi-chaptered fic and I are fighting right now, so I figured now was a good of time as ever to write this out. xD It does get a bit grotesque towards the end, but what's a good zombie story without some limbs going missing, hm? Reviews would be nice, I'm not entirely the whole thing makes sense. n.n" **

**-le disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter nor any of the characters. **

**Anyway, enjoy!**

George's feet slid in the wet grass, he could hardly see where he was going for the sheets of rain around him. He fell again, a cry of pain bursting from him when he landed on his wrist the wrong way. Moments later he was scrambling back to his feet, the pain still not enough to block his mind from his goal. He knew this graveyard like the back of his hand; he'd been there often enough. It was nerves that were making this so difficult, his inability to think beyond the moment immediately after the one he was in. The rest of his mind was completely consumed by the thought he could see his Fred again, despite the circumstance. Unlike most, the headline of the Prophet that morning had brought George a ridiculous amount of joy. Playing with the dead was illegal for exactly this reason; zombies weren't the sort of thing the Ministry wanted to deal with.

Most other wizards had heeded the advice of the Prophet and stayed safely inside with a few simple charms that would turn the undead away. The Ministry didn't need long to clean up the mess, they were sending patrols to graveyards and eliminating any rising problem with relative ease. That's why George needed to hurry, he couldn't watch Fred die again, nor could he go without seeing him. He needed to tell him one last time that he loved him, no matter the consequence.

George had finally reached the place where Fred's body was buried, sinking to his knees and letting his tired frame slump against the headstone there. "I'm here, Freddie…" he whispered, dropping a hand to the grass and digging his fingers into the moist dirt below. There was an eerie silence before an odd cracking sound came from the grave to George's left. After a few moments, the ground started lumping oddly and a hand burst free, scrabbling for hold. A movement caught George's eye and he looked the other way, seeing the same thing happen on the other side. He looked down desperately, searching for movement in the ground below him.

When he looked back up, the other corpses were nearly free, fingers dug deep into the soil as they pulled the rest of their bodies from the ground. George nearly laughed, they looked nothing like what those ridiculous muggle films showed. Fred had thought it would be fun to watch one, so they'd gotten hold of some muggle money and headed off to the cinema, making quite a date out of it. Despite how awful the movie was, they'd had a brilliant time. Perhaps the shoddy way muggles took care of their dead was the reason they thought they'd look so terribly grotesque, for the figures rising around George looked to be in the same shape as the day they died.

This all only made George more desperate to see Fred again, and it still didn't seem like he'd moved yet. The ground looked like it was practically coming alive with the way it was moving, yet where he was sat was so frustratingly still. Reality was finally starting to settle in as the bodies were starting to come towards George, light and ethereal whispers sliding from their gaping lips. "C'mon, Freddie," George hissed, starting to claw at the ground. One of the others had finally reached George, a rather pretty and unfortunately young looking blonde witch. Her movements were oddly lithe and graceful, as were the others once they'd broken from the earth. Her hand grasped George's wrist with a deceivingly strong grip, bringing her face closer to his arm as more unintelligible whispers poured from her. George stared for a moment, struggling to yank his hand away and finding he could. He used his other hand to continue digging, crying out in joy as he saw the ground finally starting to move.

His gaze was torn from the sight below him as a sharp sting travelled up his arm, looking over to see that the girl had sunk her teeth into it and ripped a rather sizable chunk out. He'd have panicked but at that moment something brushed his other hand and he looked down to see Fred's hand pushing up from the dirt. George reached to grasp it only to find another set of fingers closing around it, yanking him the other way. A large man he hadn't seen coming hand gotten hold of him and wasted no time biting into his flesh, earning a loud scream from George. The girl that had been holding him before let out an unearthly growl and tugged George back the other way, causing something in his shoulder to snap. Someone had hold of his leg now as well and it took an immeasurable amount of effort not to look back at whatever it was. He focused instead on Fred's arm, rising slowly, using one of the other zombies as a hold as he worked himself out of the ground. An unbelievable amount of elation rose in his chest as he saw the others face, he hardly felt the bite to his side or the harsh tug on his leg.

Fred was completely out of his grave now, staring at George with wide, blank eyes. George was crying now, he never thought he'd see his Freddie again, moving and…well, George wasn't sure he was breathing, but there he was. He wanted to reach out and touch him but still couldn't seem to be able to get his arms from the grips of the other corpses. It was Fred that reached out instead, a hand coming to rest on his cheek. A sharp hiss rose from Fred as they contacted and he jerked his hand back before howling loudly and lunging at the girl still gnawing on George's arm. Within moments, the others had started back away, the last of them leaving with another howl from Fred.

George was left lying on the ground, quickly finding not many of his muscles responded to him anymore. The other's face appeared over his, gazing down at him with those blank eyes again. "Fred! I missed you Freddie, I missed you so much. I love you, I'll always love you." George's voice wasn't much above a panicky whisper; he had so much he needed to say and so little time left to say it. He felt the cool press of one Fred's fingers to his lips and fell silent, simply staring up at the other. Fred opened his mouth, a few of the same ghostly whispers that had come from the others escaping, to jumbled to be understood. The expression on George's face must've revealed his confusion as Fred frowned and shut his mouth before leaning down to George's remaining ear before starting to whisper into it. And this time George could just make it out, a small sentence nearly lost in the shaky whispers. "I love you too, George." And with that, Fred began to feast on what was left of George's flesh.

George's eyes fell shut, and he realized he wasn't going to live much longer. Every bite, every tug seemed so much less painful when he knew it was Fred. As he slowly slipped from consciousness, one last thought flickered through his mind: He couldn't imagine a better way to die.


End file.
